New Hopes
by TheLovingCake
Summary: AU set after season 2. In which Robin wants revenge, Guy wants death, Much wants peace, John wants a family and Allan wants redemption. Will they all achieve their goals? And at what cost?
1. Chapter 1: Faith

**Hello! :)  
This is AU set after season 2. There were some things I was not so happy about in season 3, mainly the lack of Allan, Much, Little John and gang-moments in general, so I decided to write my own version. It will probably not follow the season 3-storyline very much, but there are spoilers for season 1 and 2. I don't plan for Kate, Isabella, Meg and the other season 3-characters to appear, but you never know. I have a Tuck and he will help Robin see sense, just in a different way than they did on the show. I also plan to have Matilda and Rosa from episode 5 of season 2 "Ducking and Diving" join the gang later. Lots of interesting things can happen!  
English is not my native language so I apologize for grammar mistakes and misunderstandings.**

**In this chapter the gang returns from the Holy Land, but Robin's agenda is not what the rest of the gang had in mind. He meets someone, however, who helps him remember who Robin Hood is, but not before he has gotten into a real mess. Much, Allan and Little John take it upon themselves to get their leader out of it, but will they succeed or just make matters worse?**

**Enjoy :)  
**

* * *

Chapter 1

Faith

Much was hungry. It had been days since they had eaten anything but oatmeal made by Little John, and his stomach demanded proper food. As he walked, he imagined a big, juicy, roasted pig on a spike, but that just made his stomach complain more than ever.

"How long till we're there?" he asked.

Little John, who was walking in front of him, answered: "An hour at the most. Don't you recognize this area?"

"No. There is nothing here but trees. And all the trees look the same."

"I agree," said Allan. "How can you recognize one tree from another, John?"

"Because they don't look like each other at all." Little John shrugged. "Maybe none of you would understand. Do you recognize the area, Robin?"

They all turned to look at their leader. He was trailing a few steps behind them. Much had noticed how he had become more and more quiet and dark the closer they got to home, and he thought he knew what he was thinking about.

"Robin?" asked Little John.

Robin looked up. "What?"

"You didn't hear what I asked you about?"

"No." He sighed. "Sorry, John."

Silence fell over the small group. Much hated silence almost as much as he hated being hungry. On the long trip from the Holy Land there had been a lot of silence, and he was getting rather tired of it. Of course he had not expected Robin to say much at first, but he could not understand how a person could be so quiet for months. Little John had never been one to talk much, which he did not understand either, and Allan - whom he used to discuss with all the time which at least was a kind of talking - had also been mysteriously quiet. He always volunteered to hunt for food or gather firewood, and that had left Much alone. Now, only an hour or so away from the camp, he could not allow the silence.

"So … it will be good to be home at last. No more travelling, no more sleeping on the forest floor, no more oatmeal." He sighed contently. "No more oatmeal. I think I will go hunt in the afternoon, and then we will have a big feast tonight." Nobody answered him. "Allan, will you go hunt with me in the afternoon?"

"Well … yeah, of course." Allan looked over his shoulder. "If we catch something big, we can give some food to the villagers tomorrow. They probably need it."

John muttered approvingly.

"Good idea!" Much rubbed his hands together. "There'll be a lot of work for us to do. And without Will and Djaq it will take more time."

"We will overcome," John said. "The poor need us."

On their way from Portsmouth they had heard rumors that Prince John had personally been to Nottingham to visit the Sheriff and inform him how unsatisfied he was with him. That had made the Sheriff furious and he now demanded more taxes and more work from the people in and around Nottingham. The rumors said that a lot of people had died from starvation.

"But not for much longer." Much beamed. "I can't wait for the King's return! To see the look on the Sheriff's face when he is arrested and to watch Gisborne get stripped of his title and lands. To get my Bonchurch and then find Eve and live happily ever after …"

Allan shot him a glare. "Relax, Much, he is not home just yet."

"But he will be! He said himself that he knew the conditions of England and that he intended to leave soon."

"Yeah, but when is soon? I don't trust that king."

"King Richard will return," Robin said with a stony glare towards Allan. "And then he will remove the Sheriff and justice will prevail."

"Exactly!" Much smiled again. Allan decided not to push the topic further.

* * *

A half hour later things started to go wrong. Somehow Much had known all along that something like this would happen. He had sensed it, but he had not known what to do.

"Robin, the camp is this way." John jerked his head to the right, but Robin continued forward without even looking at him. "Robin!"

"I'm not going to the camp," Robin said.

"Then where are you going?" asked Much concerned.

"To Locksley."

"Master, surely the poor will understand that we need to rest for half a day before …"

"I'm not going there to help the poor."

"You are going to kill Gisborne." Allan stepped in his way, forcing Robin to stop. "Robin, don't do it."

"Get out of my way, Allan. This is between him and me."

Allan looked him in the eyes and put his hands on his shoulders. "You can't do it. You are Robin Hood, you don't kill …"

"For her I kill." Robin pushed him away. "I want you to go back to camp. You must keep on fighting, keep on helping the poor. Remember, you are Robin Hood."

"No, master, _you _are Robin Hood!" Much had tears in his eyes. "Marian said … Marian said that you had to go on for her. She did not want you to kill Gisborne. Will you ignore her final wish?"

"No, Much! I wish with all of my heart that I could keep my promise to her! But I just can't … I can't keep on fighting, knowing that he lives … I can't help the poor, knowing that any day he might kill their mother or father or _their _love. He has to die." Robin looked at them, his eyes full of desperation and sorrow. "Do you understand that? I know I have always said that I will not kill, that I have already killed too much. But is not killing a man who later will kill dozens of people not a crime as well?"

Allan looked down. Much nodded, and Little John tightened his hold on his staff. "Then let us come with you, Robin."

"No! You have to continue the fight that Marian died for. That I may die for today. And if I do not succeed in killing Gisborne, one of you will have to do it instead." Robin laid his hands on Much's shoulders. "You have to promise me that you will let me do it. I do it _for _Marian, Much, so that nobody else will end up like her. I do it because it's the only thing I _can _do. For me the fight ended when her life ended. But you - all of you - you can still fight. And you will, even if I die today. Do you promise me that?"

Much sniffed, but a "yes" crossed his lips. Little John grunted and nodded. The only one who did not react was Allan. His eyes were set firmly to the ground, and his hands were made into fists.

"Allan?" Robin said.

Allan slowly raised his head. "So we came all this way just so you could die too? We fought against the Sheriff, we starved and thirsted, and we risked our lives on numerous occasions. And now you will just leave us?"

"It's not like that. But I've lost all hope. All, I have left, is revenge. I want Gisborne dead and I want you all to continue in my place." Robin crossed his arms. "But if you are still so fond of your former master, you just go ahead and warn him, Allan."

That made Allan shut up.

* * *

"He said that he did not want us to follow him. But strictly speaking we don't, right? I mean, we don't need to follow him as we are fully aware of where he is going. To Locksley, I mean, 'cause it's there Gisborne …"

"Shut up, Much," John growled.

Allan stopped. "Can you hear that?"

Even from this distance they could hear the howls and the sounds of blades meeting in the air. Much immediately wanted to get closer, but Little John held him back.

"He must not see us. It will just distract him."

"We can hide in the crowd," Allan said. "Come on, we have to know if he lives or dies."

The people of Locksley had formed a circle around Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne. The first thing Much noticed was how terrible Gisborne was looking. His eyes were bloodshot as if he had not slept in many days, and his hair and clothes were a mess. He no longer looked like the Sheriff's right-hand-man, more like a drunk from the town.

"She should have been mine!" he shouted at Robin as he attacked again.

Robin easily avoided the blade and attacked himself. "She loved me! It was always me! She never loved you!"

"Liar!"

Gisborne roared and in a desperate attempt he threw himself at Robin. Robin had not been prepared for the stunt, and they both tumbled to the ground. Gisborne got a hold of Robin's hair, and he hammered his head into the ground until Robin dropped his sword. Both Much and Allan jumped forward to save their leader, but John got an arm around them and held them back. "No! There are guards here. We will all be caught."

Allan hung his head in defeat, but Much kept struggling. He would not just stand there and watch his master be killed! But just as Gisborne raised his own blade and was about to pierce the heart of Robin Hood, a voice shouted: "Gisborne! Stop!"

Much looked to the right. The Sheriff sat on his white horse with an arm in the air. He smirked. "Gisborne, why so hasty? You have him."

"My lord, with your permission …" Gisborne's voice was hoarse. "May I please kill him now?"

"But, Gisborne …" The Sheriff shook his head. "The Prince's messenger is coming tomorrow to collect the taxes. Don't you think he will find it … let's say, entertaining to watch Hood's public hanging?"

"I … I guess so, my Lord." Gisborne spat and hammered Robin's head down in the ground one final time, so Robin lost conscience. Guards entered the scene and bound Robin's hands on his back.

Much still struggled against Little John's grip. "We've got to save him!"

"Easy now, lad. We will save him; but not now."

"Then when!?"

"Tomorrow at the gallows. Allan, do you happen to know a way into the castle?"

Allan thought for a moment. He looked at Robin's unconscious body being dragged away by guards, and then he nodded. "I might know a way in."

* * *

Robin's head was sore when he woke. It took him a moment to remember what had happened. Gisborne … He had tried to kill Gisborne. But he had failed. And now he was in a dark, damp place that he could only assume was the dungeon.

"Oh, you're awake." A voice from a dark corner startled Robin. He screwed up his eyes and tried to see through the darkness. "It is about time. They will bring food soon."

"Who are you?" Robin asked suspiciously and rested his back against the cell wall.

"Ah, sorry. My name is Tuck. Brother Tuck actually." The man moved closer to Robin so he could see his face. A pair of soft, brown eyes in an oval face met him. It struck Robin how young the other man was. His face was bare, with no hints of beard or wrinkles. "I am a monk from a monastery nearby."

"A monk? What are you doing in the dungeon?"

"Well, my monastery could no longer pay the taxes, so the Sheriff sent men to collect items instead. But when they entered the church, I decided to fight." The man smiled. "They certainly did not expect a monk to fight back. But they overpowered me anyway, and now I'm here."

Robin would never have thought that a monk could fight, either. He frowned. "I did not know that you learned to fight in a monastery."

Tuck laughed. "Well, I don't think it's that common. But I've been there my whole life, and one day an old crusader joined us. He taught me how to ride and how to use weapons."

At the word 'crusader' Robin had stiffened. He suddenly thought back to the Holy Land. In his head he saw Gisborne's dark shape and Marian's white, how she fell to the burning sand, how cold she was in his arms …

"But why are you here?" Tuck asked.

Robin looked at him. "I am Robin Hood."

The monk glanced at him with round eyes and open mouth. "You … you're … _you're_ Robin Hood?"

"Yes. Or … at least I used to be." Robin looked down.

"Used to be?" Tuck moved even closer as a child who wanted a story from his father. "That I don't understand."

Robin sighed. "It's a long story."

"Well, we've got nothing but time."

Something about Tuck's innocence face and his sincere eyes - and maybe also the fact that he was a man of the church - made Robin want to tell his story. How he had been so cocky and arrogant to think he could save England, how he had tried but lost the lives of so many - Roy, Lambert, Merton, Dan Scarlett, LeGrand, Carter and Marian just to mention a few - and how he no longer believed in their cause. Only his promise to Marian that he would keep fighting and a wish for revenge had driven him back to England. But since Marian's death it had become increasingly hard for him to talk about her, and he was not sure he was able to anymore. Not to a total stranger.

"It's …" He shifted uncomfortably. Then he made his decision. "It all started when I returned to England with my friend Much …"

* * *

Guy of Gisborne took a deep breath. He had waited so many months for Hood's return. He had waited, and while he waited, he had imagined the satisfaction and the relief he would feel when Hood finally killed him. It had not been his intention to kill Hood today, but the anger had overtaken his body and made it burn with the desire to destroy. Afterwards he regretted. While he fought, the voices in his head had been silent, but now they were back louder than ever.

"_Kill the Sheriff … This is your last chance to be a good man … You came back! … I love Robin Hood … I love Robin Hood … I love Robin Hood …"_

He desperately wanted the voices - all different versions of Marian's voice of course - to stop. And he had come to the conclusion that the only escape from them was death. But he did not want to dishonor his family's name and commit suicide; he wanted to die fighting. And now Hood, that big idiot, had failed.

Someone carefully knocked at the door to his chamber. A guard peered through the doorway. "My Lord? The Sheriff wishes to see you in the Great Hall."

Guy sighed. "I'm on my way."

When he arrived at the Great Hall, the Sheriff spread his arms. "Gisborne! The hero of the day! What should I do without you, hmm? I don't know, do you know? Well, I'm inclined to think there is no answer. You did it, my boy! You caught Robin Hood!"

"My Lord." Gisborne bowed his head and seated himself at the table.

"Why so gloomy? Still thinking about Marian, eh?" Guy almost liked the voices in his head more than the Sheriff's. Almost. Every day since he had killed Marian, the Sheriff had made it his personal goal to remind him of the deed as many times as possible. "If you think about it, she helped you in a way. If you hadn't murdered her, Hood would never have wanted revenge, and if Hood hadn't wanted revenge, he would not be sitting in the dungeon at this very moment. So there you go! As I keep telling you, killing is never a bad thing."

Guy smiled tightly. "My Lord."

"Gizzy …" The Sheriff stood behind his chair now. He started to massage Guy's shoulders. "I know what will make you happy! Now, we go down and torture Hood to the edge of death. Then tomorrow we hang him, and the annoying peasants will cry and mourn and be most … controllable. At the hanging his little gang will show up, of course, and then we catch them. We keep them a couple of days, make them tell about their secret stashes and stuff like that. I'll let you have the turncoat, what's his name … Allan! I'll let you have Allan all by yourself, and you can even torture him to death if you want to, I won't blame you. We've got the two others to hang. Then we are rid of the outlaws, the Prince will love us, we find you as many women as you want, and all you ever dreamt of - money, power and position - will be yours."

Guy rose from the chair to be rid of the Sheriff's touch. "And you are sure we will accomplish all this, my Lord? Surely, Hood's gang will have a plan to rescue him; maybe they even found some assistance. Allan knows the castle inside out. We've never succeeded in keeping any of them before."

"But we will this time, Gisborne," the Sheriff whispered. "The guards are doubled, so Hood won't run anywhere on his own. There is no Marian on the inside to help him, and as for your former _puppy_ and the rest of Hood's circus, I trust you have taken certain precautions so we avoid uninvited company."

"I have, my Lord."

"Good. You can go now. Just remember that we are paying Hood a visit after dinner."

Guy left the Great Hall and returned to his chambers. The Sheriff would never understand that money, power and position had lost its meaning to Guy. What did he need it for? How could he enjoy anything when his mind made him suffer every minute of every day? Even not the promise of getting to torture Allan - something he had longed for after finding out that he had betrayed him - held any kind of satisfaction to him anymore. If anything he wanted to avoid Allan; the man had not only lied to him and had seen him be made a fool by Marian, he was also one of the only people who had seen past Guy's evil henchman-parade when he tried to be the good man, Marian told him he could be. He never wanted to see anyone from that time of his life again. The only thing he wanted was to die.

* * *

"That must be the food!" Tuck exclaimed happily as he heard footsteps on the stairs down to the dungeon. Robin was not so sure, but Tuck's joy reminded him shortly of Much, and he smiled anyway. He hoped that Much was currently sitting in the camp with his teeth buried in a chicken leg. The last thing he wanted was for the gang to try and save him and then be caught themselves.

"Hoodie! Hello, long time no see, hmm?"

It was the Sheriff. Of course it was the Sheriff; the man had not been down to gloat yet. In fact they had not seen each other since the Holy Land - apart from at Locksley today, of course, but back then he had been unconscious most of the time. The sight of him reminded Robin so much of the events in the Holy land and therefore of Marian. If he died tomorrow, at least he would join her in Heaven.

Behind the Sheriff walked a dozen guards and Gisborne. If possible, Gisborne looked even worse than earlier. His eyes were blurry as if he had been drinking the whole day (he probably had), and his face was lined with deep furrows. In a way he looked tired, no, exhausted. He looked like he had not slept since the murder.

"I see you've become friends with your cell mate. Cozy. We thought that a monk would be good company for you on your final night; giving you time to confess and all that nonsense." The Sheriff clasped his hands together. "I just had a marvelous idea! Gisborne, listen to this. Why don't we hang the monk and Hood together? Now that they have become such good friends."

"What?" Tuck had turned pale. His young eyes flickered from Robin to the Sheriff. "You can't hang us. I am a holy man, and he is Robin Hood."

"He is an _outlaw,_ and you, my dear friend, also committed a heinous crime. It's a fitting sentence for both of you." The Sheriff smirked. "I like the poetry of it. Robin Hood hanged alongside a priest. You, priest, is like a symbol of all the innocent people Robin Hood failed to rescue, and you die. And he dies. Oh, it's good!"

"But you can't …" Tuck obviously did not know what to say. At the sight of his fear Robin laid a hand on his shoulder. He did not know why. Maybe it was becoming a habit; he could not even begin to count the times he had assured Much or Allan that they were not going to die on one of their many missions. And Tuck relaxed slightly under his touch.

"I am the Sheriff. That means I can do anything!" The Sheriff walked closer to the cell and patted Tuck on his head. "Don't worry, people will talk about your death for years to come. You will not be forgotten."

"He has nothing to do with this," Robin said. "You can leave him out of it."

"Nah, I was probably going to hang him sooner or later anyway." The Sheriff gestured to Gisborne who had been standing in the shadows through the conversation. "Come on, Gizzy, are you not going to say goodbye to our old friend? Don't be so rude."

Gisborne stepped forward. His dark, haunted eyes struggled to focus on Robin. A snarl darkened his features even more. "I just want you to know, Hood, that it doesn't end with your death. I will make every peasant who was ever loyal to you suffer and make sure that your name will only be associated with pain and despair. And that gang of yours …" He smiled for the first time in months, but his smile was cruel and sick, deprived of any kind of happiness. "Your servant will regret ever hearing your name, I swear it. The big one will be forced to work in the mines till he collapses. And Allan … oh, you can't even begin to imagine what I will do to Allan."

Tuck, who had been raised and had lived his whole life in a monastery, gazed horrified at Gisborne. Robin felt him shaking with every breath he took. Gisborne's words did not frighten Robin though. For some reason they just made him smile. "Marian was right about you."

At the mention of her name, Gisborne flinched. "What?"

"She once said that you were deprived of love. I just realized she was right." Robin leaned forward. "Even after you murdered the purest thing in your life, you still don't know what love is. You just _want, _Gisborne. You never loved Marian, you wanted her. And you still don't love her or anything else, but you want power and money, and most of all you want revenge over me and my gang, because we loved her. Because we are able to love."

"Shut up, Hood!" Gisborne kicked out after him, but his foot only hit the bars around the cell. "I loved Marian! I would never have left her for a stupid war like you did. I would have done everything for her!"

"That's not love. Love is not giving gifts; love is knowing what the other person wants. And you never understood that."

Gisborne lashed out again, and the Sheriff laughed. "Don't let him get to you, Gisborne. Hmm? Maybe there are different ways to _love_, and Hood is the foolish one who left his titles and lands; things that could have given him love."

Hearing the Sheriff's cool voice made Gisborne restrain himself. "My Lord …"

"Now, let's go and get a good night's sleep, and tomorrow we will watch Hood and the monk swing in poetic justice." The Sheriff turned around. "Sleep tight, Hoodie. And you, monk, remember to say your prayers, because tomorrow is the big day where you are finally going to meet your maker."

They left. Gisborne gave Robin one final glare before he also turned his back on him. Robin felt oddly satisfied. Even if he had failed to kill Gisborne, it was still good to see that he - if possible - felt even worse than Robin.

A sound from Tuck made him turn his attention back to the cell. The monk had slung his arms around his knees in a kind of embrace. "Are they really going to … hang us? I mean … are we going to die?"

Robin really wished he could say that they were not, but his former escape plans had always involved Marian. He did not really mind dying this way, but he was sad they had condemned the monk to die with him. Something in the young man's eyes reminded him of that day ages ago when he and Much had been to visit Will and Luke Scarlett in the very same dungeons. Will's eyes had held a fear similar to Tuck's. They were not desperate or anything, but it was clearly that death frightened them and that they felt they had seen and done to little in their lives.

Robin shrugged. "It's in the hands of God, eh?"

"Yeah … yeah, it is." Tuck seemed calmer. "There's a purpose with everything. If we are not meant to die tomorrow, then we do not die tomorrow, I can promise you that."

_And what if we are? _Robin thought, but he decided not to say anything.

* * *

The castle yard was crowded with people. The Sheriff had made sure that everybody knew Robin Hood was to hang at noon along with "some monk". People were excited and frightened; excited that Robin and his gang were going to make a glorious escape and frightened that he did not. That the day had come when there would no longer be a Robin Hood, a freedom fighter who fought for the common people.

Of all the people in the castle yard, no one was more afraid than Much. They had spent the last hour hiding in a wool cart that belonged to one of Allan's friends, waiting for the right moment to join the crowd. When they got the chance, they had quickly blended in and found a place near the scaffold.

"Why did it take so long?" Much whispered. He felt like they had spent an eternity hiding in the wool.

"My friend told me that they had doubled the guards, and everybody was checked for weapons before they could enter the castle." Allan shrugged. "They must be expecting us."

"Your friend risked a lot by smuggling us," Little John remarked.

"Yeah." Much looked at Allan. "How do you know him anyway?"

"I met him while I worked for Guy in the castle." At the sight of the distrust on Little John and Much's faces, Allan frowned. "Just to clarify, not every single person associated with the castle sympathizes with the Sheriff and Prince John. He just delivers goods to the castle sometimes. A man's gotta live, right? What else could he do? Refuse to deliver anything to anybody in the castle?"

"Of course not," Much mumbled. "I just thought …"

"You just thought that he was a traitor to the crown. 'Cause everybody who gains a little money for themselves must be that, right?"

"That's not what I …!"

"Quiet," hissed John. "You may argue later. Right now we have to save Robin."

He was right of course. Much turned his back on Allan and focused on the doors to the castle. He could not help but wonder, though, why Allan was being so sensitive. They had let him back in the gang, right? What more could he ask for? Since the Holy Land they had generally avoided talking about his betrayal and his time as Gisborne's lackey; whenever the topic was brought up, Allan became all tense and somehow he always found some excuse to leave. The rest of the gang did not consider it a light topic anyway, so it had become a silent agreement not to mention it, but sometimes it seemed like Allan needed to talk about it, but couldn't. Much sighed. Why must all things be so complicated?

Suddenly the trumpet fanfares alerted the crowd. Everybody turned their attention to the castle's huge double doors that swung open to reveal the Sheriff, a lot of guards and Gisborne. First Much could not spot Robin. Then he saw him hanging between two guards. Beside him a young man - approximately on Will's age - in a monk's robes was transported with only one guard to hold him. Much screwed up his eyes and tried to see through the people. Robin did not look injured, but his form signaled defeat. Much did not remember when he had last seen him like this. Maybe at Marian's wedding. Or at her funeral …

The Sheriff jumped gleefully down the stairs. "People in Nottingham! I have brought before you the outlaw, the _thief, _whose reign of terror we have long suffered under." He placed himself on the scaffold and looked at the gathered people. Much looked down to the ground, afraid he would be recognized. Behind him Robin and the monk got ropes around their necks. "Robin Hood is not - as some think - a hero of the common people. He opposites the law! And what are we without the law? I will tell you what, we are nothing. Without the low it's the strongest that control things. Robin Hood considers himself the strongest. I say that we finally prove him wrong." A wicked smile spread on his face. "Now, Gisborne."

Gisborne kicked to the stools under the prisoners, and the ground disappeared under Robin and the monk so the ropes tightened around their necks. In the same second Little John shouted: "Now!", and he, Allan and Much swung themselves upon the scaffold. The Sheriff screamed in surprise and tumbled a few steps back, reaching for his sword, but before he could get the weapon John grabbed him and threw him to the ground beneath the scaffold.

"Gisborne!" the Sheriff shouted laying flat belly on the paving stones. "Do something!"

Gisborne drew his sword. "Guards! Attack!"

The guards on the scaffold came upon them, and from the corner of his eye Much could see more guards approach. It was now or never. His job was to cut down Robin. He blocked a guard's sword and dodged under another. Gisborne had seen him, but Allan threw a knife that almost cut off Gisborne's nose, and then they engaged in a fight. Much got a glimpse of a sneer on Gisborne's face and frightened determination on Allan's before he again had to concentrate on getting to Robin.

"Much …" Robin choked.

"I'm here, master." Much grabbed his master's hand and then cut the rope. Robin fell down to the floor, coughing and breathing heavily.

"Much … Tuck …"

"Who? Oh." Much hurried over to the monk and cut him down too. He hit the floor hard and moaned loudly. "Ops. Sorry."

"It's alright …" Tuck opened his eyes to see his rescuer. "Who are you?"

Before Much could answer, he could feel Robin's hand on his shoulder. "This," Robin said, "is Much. I told you about him. He is my best and most loyal friend."

Much blushed, but smiled.

* * *

Guy was getting rather tired of everything. Despite all of the extra security he had installed, the filthy outlaws had somehow found a way in. And not one of his soldiers had recognized them earlier, which meant that they had now succeeded in freeing Hood. Guy would happily have hindered it, but he was in combat with his former right-hand-man who could not best him, but who could easily hold him off long enough to give the others a chance to cut down Hood.

"Give up, Allan!" he roared."You are never getting out of here alive, none of you are. Your only chance of survival is to leave Hood and run away now!"

"I don't let down friends," Allan retorted. "Not anymore."

"Don't take me for a fool, Allan." He hammered his sword at Allan's left side, but Allan had seen the move coming and blocked the blow. "If you thought you had better options than with Hood, you would have been out of here a long time ago. But sadly, you have not!"

"At least my only option is not a man who made me kill the woman I loved!"

Guy was rather tired of the whole thing, and this was the final straw. "Shut up!" he shouted vigorously. And instead of attacking with his sword like Allan anticipated, he kicked at his legs and made him stumble which gave Guy the chance he needed to knock the sword out of his hands. He pointed the tip of his sword to Allan's neck, and Allan slowly raised his hands. "Guards!" he roared. Two guards who had just joined the fight came to his site. Guy grabbed Allan's collar and threw him at them. "Hold him. And make sure he doesn't run away."

"Yes, Sir Guy." The guards roughly grabbed each of Allan's arms. Guy looked into his light blue eyes and hit him hard across the face before he moved on.

The big outlaw was the greatest challenge. He knocked all the guards down from the scaffold with that staff of his. Luckily, reinforcements had just arrived from the castle to the fight, and Guy gathered the strongest men he could find. They attacked the outlaw all at once, and though two or three guards got their teeth knocked out, they succeeded in throwing the staff away, tie the outlaw's hands on his back and hold him down.

Guy had looked forward to fight Robin again, but to his disappointment both Robin and the servant were already overpowered. Now only the monk was still free. Gisborne searched with his eyes and finally found him at the stairs to the scaffold. He could not believe his own eyes. The monk boy had retrieved a sword from somewhere, and he fought like a warrior who had been to war his whole life. His moves were swift and precise, his blows hard. His eyes were determined and always in the right place, and his feet moved like he was dancing, not fighting for his life. Guards fell around him and made their comrades stumble so it was even easier for the monk to defeat them.

"You!" Guy pointed at a random guard. "Give me your bow!"

The guard obeyed, and Guy aimed at the monk's head. He screwed up his eyes and tried to shut the noises out so he could concentrate. Unfortunately, the monk moved his head just as Guy had fired, and the arrow flew a centimeter past his face. However, it was enough to startle the boy, and one of the soldiers knocked him down from behind.

"Tie him up!" Guy ordered.

Most of the crowd had panicked and tried to flee, but now that nobody was fighting anymore they slowly returned to witness the turn of events. All the outlaws and the monk had been tied up, and guards were stationed both around and on the scaffold to make sure nobody even thought of escaping.

The Sheriff made his way back to the scaffold. He looked at the scene and clapped Gisborne at the back. "Well done, my boy! Though your so-called increased security failed, you have managed to capture all the outlaws. This is a good day!"

"Yeah." Guy eyed his accomplishment. "This is a _good _day."

"_Like a little humanity?! … You don't believe that … This is your last chance … I love Robin Hood … I love Robin Hood …"_

Or it would have been a good day a year ago. But now that the voices were back, all Guy could think about was to get rid of them. Now that Hood was caught, his chances of dying anytime soon looked slim, so he had to think of another way. Anything that might make her stop.

"_I love Robin Hood …"_

He shook his head, but of course it did not help. Nothing helped, not even sleep. He could only hope that death unexpectedly would find him soon.

"And now," the Sheriff said, "let's pick up where we left, hmm? Only I think that since your friends have joined us, Hood, I will hang them first. Then you get to see the pain on their faces, and how the light in their eyes die out as life is strangled out of them. Let me tell you, it's a marvelous sight! And I don't want you to miss it." He looked around. Hood's face was red with anger, the big outlaw growled and Allan, the servant and the monk just looked scared. The Sheriff chuckled to himself and gestured to a guard. "We're gonna need some more rope."

* * *

They had to be four men to get the rope around Little John's neck. Robin watched him struggle and hoped that he would miraculously escape, but eventually even John's strength and rage had to give up. Much, Allan and Tuck struggled too, but there was no way out. They were going to die, and it would be his fault. If he had never filled them with ideas about Robin Hood and half plans, they would not be here. Robin did not know what to do. Everything inside him told him to give up. He had fought and he had lost.

"_We were fighters, and we were proud." _An image flashed before his eyes. Marian lying in the sand, smiling despite of the sword stuck in her belly._ "You keep fighting for me, Robin."_

_Robin's face cringed. "I can't fight without you!"_

_Marian laughed a little, though there were hints of tears in her eyes. "I'd love to argue with you, but we haven't got the time. You promise me you keep fighting."_

_He nodded, knowing deep inside that it was the right thing to do. "I will."_

The image disappeared. He tried to hold onto it, wanting to hear her voice and feel her hands in his just one more time. But she was gone. She was dead. He had promised her something, and as Djaq always said: "Never lie to a dying man". He had not lied. His intention had been to fight on, but without her it just seemed so meaningless.

The Sheriff's voice interrupted his thoughts. Little John, Much, Allan and Tuck stood on stools with ropes around their necks behind him, and the Sheriff paced eagerly in front of them. "These men have committed terrible crimes! They have all assisted the notorious thief and outlaw Robin Hood, and now they are being punished. Everybody who cooperates with outlaws will be punished this way, so be aware, my good people. And let these examples keep you on the right path."

Robin looked at each of them. Little John growled and fought against the ropes that bound him, but his shoulders slumped hopelessly. He had a family; Alice Little and Little Little John. He had confided in Robin that when the war was over, and the King finally returned, he would go find them and make up for the years he had let them down. That was never going to happen now.

Besides him was Much. Faithful, loyal, brave Much who had always been there for him, and who would rather die than let him down. He knew that now, and he regretted all the times he had insulted and underestimated him. Much had no family, but they all knew that when the fighting was over, he intended to go look for that girl he had met at Bonchurch. What was her name? Eve, that was it. And he would stuff his face every day with the best food in the shire. But now Bonchurch would never go to its rightfully master.

Allan was the next in the line. He tried to look brave and he sent burning glances in the direction of Sheriff and Gisborne, but Robin saw how he trembled, and how his eyes were blank. Sometimes he would look beyond the castle yard in the direction of Sherwood. Robin had never really understood Allan, and he doubted that he ever would, but over the years he had learned that the thing Allan a Dale wanted the most was freedom. And not just physically freedom. He also wanted freedom from poverty, from starving and from prejudices. Robin did not think Allan had ever experienced that freedom. He had intended to grand Allan some land when the king returned, and he had hoped that the young trickster would finally settle down and be satisfied. He would never know now if Allan was able to be satisfied.

And finally there was Tuck. The monk had closed his eyes, and his lips moved, so Robin guessed he was praying. Maybe God would send a thunderstruck that killed Gisborne and the Sheriff. That would be a solution. But Robin found it hard to believe. He watched the young man's otherwise smooth forehead frown. He too was scared. Robin did not know why, but he found Tuck to be an interesting person. So young and so inexperienced, but yet with a faith so strong that he believed God would intervene if something was not meant to happen. Robin admired his faith. But it also worried him that others had a similar faith in Robin Hood, in him. He would let them all, inclusive Tuck, down today.

"_You keep fighting for me, Robin." _Marian's face again. He had promised her. But he could not do it.

_I am sorry, my love. See you soon._

"Now, Gisborne!" the Sheriff shouted.

Gisborne kicked the stools away. The crowd gasped and started murmuring and the outlaws and Tuck started to wriggle and gasp for air. And suddenly Robin could not let them die. They all had too much to live for, and they would leave people behind, like he was left behind when Marian died. It all reminded him of day he had become an outlaw in the first place. Only now the four people hanging were Allan, Little John, Much and Tuck, and he had no bow. But Gisborne had had a bow earlier, and that bow was now carried by a solider a few feet away from Robin.

He jumped. None of the guards had paid any particular attention to him as they were watching the hanging, so when he thrust himself forward with all his weight, their fingers around his arms slipped. He bumped into the solider with the bow, and they both fell to the ground. Robin had wiggled his hands out of the ropes that bound them, and he kicked the guard in the face and got his hands on the bow. He also grabbed some arrows, and then he fired two arrows two times. His four friends were realized from the killing ropes, and then Robin aimed for the Sheriff, shot and pinned his cape to the scaffold with two more arrows. Then he knocked him over the head, so the Sheriff lost conscience.

Gisborne had drawn his sword and tried to get close, but Robin pointed an arrow in his face. "Stay away, Gisborne!"

"Or what?" Gisborne spat. "There's nothing you can do to me that will make me more miserable than I already am."

Little John, Much, Allan and Tuck came to stand beside Robin. They had all retrieved weapons from the surprised guards. Robin noticed out of the corner of his eye that Tuck's neck was read and a bit swollen, but then he remembered that the poor boy had been hanged two times at one day, so it was not so weird.

"I can kill you," Robin warned.

"Do it." Gisborne spread his arms. His voice had an insane edge to it, and his eyes looked desperate. "I can't live with myself anyway. I hear her voice. I hear it all the times, and I can't escape. Death is the only solution."

"Gisborne has gone mad," Much whispered.

Robin eyed him suspiciously. "What are you talking about?"

"Marian." His voice broke when he tried to say her name. "I can hear her voice in my head all the time. When she encouraged me to be a good man. When she let me down. I hear it all over and over again, and I'm going insane. Please, Hood. Kill me." He fell to his knees.

"Robin." Allan laid a hand on his shoulder. "You don't kill."

Robin had not let go of the bow yet. The arrow was still aiming at Gisborne.

"Robin," John said warningly.

"A smaller man would want revenge at any cost," Much said. "A smaller man would do it."

"What if I am the smaller man, Much?" Robin sniffed. "You have always been the bigger of the two of us."

"You're not the smaller man," Much said with so much conviction that Robin almost believed him.

"The Lord said not to kill," Tuck said. "Besides … look at him. He is suffering like he was in hell every day. Isn't that a fitter punishment than the peace of death?"

It was Tuck's words that finally convinced him. They were spoken with belief and they were true. Gisborne was clearly suffering. He probably had since he had stabbed Marian in the Holy Land. And he begged for death. He wanted to die. Robin would never help Gisborne.

He lowered the bow. "You are right, my friends. He doesn't even deserve to die."

He could feel that they all sighed with relief. Allan clapped him on the back, and Much smiled at him. Robin smiled back. Then he drew his swords and pointed it on Gisborne. "Get up. Lead the way. And if anyone hinders our escape, I will not hesitate to hurt you."

With Gisborne as protection the guards let them pass through the gates. The crowd cheered as they escaped, and Robin smiled. It felt good to be Robin Hood again. More than anything it felt good to know that he was still able to be Robin Hood. Saving his friends today had showed him that he could. And therefore he could fulfill his promise to Marian. Then she would be satisfied with him when they met in Heaven, and they would not have to argue. At least not for the first couple of days. Robin's smile grew brighter.

When they were at the city gates, Robin pushed Gisborne so he fell. "May you live long and suffer severely."

Gisborne sent him a dark look, but Robin could not help but notice that his eyes were wet. It must be something he had imagined, but in that moment he would have sworn they were.

And then he, the gang and Tuck ran for the protection of Sherwood.

* * *

"Where will you go now, then?" Much asked.

Tuck shrug and ate the last spoonfuls of the stew, Much had cooked. "I don't know. I suppose I can't return to the monastery; they'll probably be looking for me there. Maybe I can join another monastery far away from here."

"You are welcome to stay," Robin said. "If you want to."

Tuck looked around in the outlaws' secret camp. It was not big, but it was practically constructed. They had roof over their heads, and it could be camouflaged so it looked like a part of the hill it was built into. There was a kitchen, a privy and six beds.

The monk smiled. "I would love to." He hesitated. "If you all want me, of course."

"The way you fight?" Much grinned. "You are more than welcome!"

John nodded, and Allan sent him an approving nod. Robin smiled. "It's settled, then. You are now officially a part of Robin Hood. That means you'll need one of these."

He found a little piece of wood attached to a string. "This means that you are one of us."

Tuck took the necklace and looked at it with big eyes. "We heard of these. The stories say that everybody in Robin Hood's gang wears one of these."

"That's true. Which reminds me …" Robin dug in his pockets and found another necklace. "Allan!" The trickster looked up just in time to catch the necklace before the piece of wood landed in his eye. "You'll need to tie a knot on the string. It's broken, you know, but it's yours again now."

Allan looked at the thing in his hands. "You … kept this?"

"Originally I threw it away." Robin shrugged. "But before we left the Holy Land, Djaq took me aside and told me where I could find it. She said to give it to you when you were a part of the gang again."

Allan smiled and closed his hand around the tag. "Thanks Robin."

"It's good to be back!" Much announced and poured himself some more stew.

"Yes." Robin sat down beside him and watched his gang eat. "It's good to be back."

* * *

**Thank you for reading :)**


	2. Chapter 2: Allan the Rabbit

**Hello :)  
I apologize for the delay, hopefully chapter 3 will be up a bit faster than chapter 2. I think I will make the chapters a bit shorter from now on, so I can try and update more frequently.  
Thank you so much for the reviews! I appreciate it very much! And yes, of course Guy will also get his redemption in this :)**

**In this chapter there are news about the king, Allan lectures Guy on guilt, everybody misses Djaq, and Robin brings someone to the camp who makes Little John smile. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 2

Allan the Rabbit

When Robin was really worried, you could always tell from a distance. Much was hardly awake before he knew. He heard Robin's steps; they were hard against the floor, and they continued on and on as if he was walking in circles. Furthermore he could hear him mumble to someone in a low, angry voice. Much sighed. He hated these mornings.

"Good morning!" Much rolled out of his bunk and discovered that the others were already awake. That was unusual. Much was always the first to wake so he could make them breakfast. Their faces were all grim and deadly serious, except Tuck who just looked scared. "Something wrong?"

"It's the king," said Little John.

"The king?!" Much felt his heart beat faster. "Is he coming home? Has something happened to him?"

Robin stopped pacing and folded his arms. "He was on his way home."

Much paled. "Was?"

"Yes. He is now held captive in Austria."

"In Austria?!"

"Yes, and he can only be released if England can pay a very big ransom."

"And after the Crusades, England is short on money as it is," whispered Much. "But, but …" It felt like the words were stuck in his throat. "How do you know this?"

It was Allan who answered: "Tuck and I went hunting this morning. We met a rider who was carrying a message to the Sheriff. He knows me from … my time at the castle." His eyes searched downwards, but he continued telling. "He lives in London and hadn't heard that I don't work Gisborne anymore, so he told me what was going on."

Much sat down on a nearby bunk. "That's horrible. Simply horrible." He looked up. "What do we do, master?"

"I don't know, Much. I really don't know."

Much hated seeing Robin all helpless and worried. "You don't have half a plan?"

"For now we take care of the poor," Little John said.

"Yes, John is right. But we also have to keep our eyes and ears open for news about Richard." Robin looked more like himself now. His eyes had regained their spark. "Much, you and I go to Nottingham and distribute money and food to the poor there. After that we go to the castle and see what we can find out. John and Tuck, you go to Nettlestone and Locksley; maybe you can try and talk to Thornton and ask if he knows anything, after you have helped the poor. And Allan, you go to Clun."

They started to gather their weapons, and Robin handled them all small bags of money or food to distribute. Much knew that they all knew that it was far from enough. The Sheriff would now have another excuse to tax the people, but it was doubtful that the money he collected would really go to a ransom. The gang would be busier because the villagers would have less money, but that also gave them less time to hunt for food or intercept tax money on their way to London. Much did not want to admit it, but he was afraid that the challenge was too big, even for Robin Hood.

* * *

It was a fine day. The air was fresh, it was not too cold or too warm, and the leaves were soft under his feet. It had been a long time since Allan a Dale had enjoyed a day like this. He almost forgot all of his worries as he walked on the forest ground with tall trees all around him like they protected him from the world outside. He was just a single outlaw, protected by the forest. He smiled. He liked that thought.

Clun was not that far from the camp, and he did not have much to distribute, so his work this day would be quickly over. Maybe he could go hunt later. The gang would appreciate a good dinner. Or maybe he could take a nap. There had not been much time for napping since he had left the castle.

Somehow he missed the good food, to have time for a nap, to have stone walls that protected him from the outside. But yet he knew that as strong as those stone walls were, they had not protected him from his feelings inside. And they had made him feel worse and worse for each day he worked there. He would never go back. He would never betray the gang again.

Just as he came to the outskirts of Clun, he heard men shouting and women screaming. He frowned and was careful as he moved further into the village. As he came to the town square, he quickly ducked down behind a fence. He had found the reason people were screaming.

"Come on, Gisborne! Don't be so soft. If they can't pay, take some of their belongings. Or their children or their cousins, I don't care, just take _something _so that the next time we come, they'll have money!"

"Yes, my Lord," Guy answered in that restrained voice Allan had heard him use so many times before when he was unsatisfied or felt humiliated.

"I'm bored, Gisborne." The Sheriff - who apparently had brought his chair from the Great Hall at the castle - leaned back and yawned. "Hurry up, will you?"

"Yes, my Lord."

Guy sighed barely hearable and then he started commanding his soldiers around. The Sheriff watched for a time before he ordered a guard to take some wine from one of the houses.

Allan was in a dilemma. He had been given money enough to pay for most of the village, and he might be able to sneak in and give it to someone, but Guy would skin him alive if he was caught. He looked at the scene carefully, trying to calculate the risk he would be taking. He saw that a cart was parked in the middle of the square, and in it were a lot of children and other people along with a fancy table and some jewels. He realized that they had already taxed most of the village, and Robin and the rest of the gang would have to rescue some children anyway. It was probably better to wait.

He decided to sneak back to the forest and wait until the Sheriff and Guy headed to Nottingham. But just as he carefully moved away from his hiding place, a dog from a house nearby began to bark at him. He tried to shush it, but it was too late.

"Who's there?" Guy shouted.

Allan considered not saying anything, but then Guy would just send over the guards to look what had made the dog bark. Maybe it was better just to get it over and done with. He slowly raised his hands above the head and stood up.

"Well, well, well, look who have we here!" The Sheriff rose from his chair with a gleeful expression on his face. "It is our own Allan! We have missed you so much, you know. Especially Gizzy."

Gisborne scowled. Allan tried to smile cockily. "Can't make the place work without me, yeah?"

"Sure we can, it was just so much funnier to have you around. And it will be again." The Sheriff's voice went dark. "When you are dangling in the castle yard."

Allan gulped. "I am not sure that would be using my full potential."

"We saw your full potential," Guy sneered. "And I prefer you hanging from a rope. Get him!"

Guards ran at him. Allan froze for two seconds, thoughts whirling through his head. Should he run, should he fight, should he surrender? Would he die today? Death had never seemed less attracting to Allan, so he decided to take the chance and run into the house with the dog. The dog was tied to a pole outside, and as he had hoped, it ran after him and ended up stuck in the doorway so it blocked the way. Allan ran through the house and jumped out a window, then he crawled and jumped some more to get through a garden, over a fence and into the forest. He ran as fast as he possibly could, first on the trail, then in between the trees, but he still heard shouts and the sound of horse hooves way too close to him.

He ran across a river, so his trousers became all wet and heavy. He hoped it would slow the horses. Then he found some thickset bushes and jumped into them. He covered himself with leaves and branches, and then he sat quietly and tried to breathe without making any noise.

Some moments later the guards passed his hiding place, but they did not stop. Allan tried not to breath. He wished that he could be brave like Robin - that he could face danger with a smirk and just welcome death as a step on the journey to become a legend. But Allan was not Robin, and he felt the cold hand of fear grab his heart. He was like a rabbit here, a trapped rabbit, and soon the hunter might come and skin him. It just made it worse that the hunter was Gisborne. Allan had also feared the Sheriff's right-hand-man before his employ in the castle, but after having seen first-hand what Gisborne was capable off, the fear was severely increased.

If he could kill Marian like he had done, it would not cause him any troubles to kill Allan. In fact, after his betrayal Guy would probably enjoy it.

When he could no longer hear the soldiers, he waited for another few minutes and then he slowly got up. Clun would have to wait. For now he was going back to camp as fast as his legs could carry him.

But just as he had run a few steps, some little, angry creature bit him in the stomach, and its teeth were made of fire. Or so it felt. He cried out and clutched his stomach as he fell to his knees. When he looked down, he saw an arrow sticking out of him, and his face grew pale. A blood stain quickly spread, and for some reason he felt disappointed that his shirt was ruined. Then he remembered that his shirt would not matter if he was dead, and the fear tightened its grip.

Then he noticed the archer. It was Gisborne. Of course it was Gisborne. The black horse and the black man came closer, and the hoof beats thundered in Allan's ears. _The hunter has come to fetch his rabbit, _he thought dimly.

When he was five meters away, Gisborne jumped off his horse. The sound when he landed sent a chill down Allan's spine. He heard a sword being drawn and then he felt the cold metal touch his neck. He raised his head.

"Hello Guy," he said and tried to sound casually like he knew Robin would have.

"Don't speak to me," Guy almost whispered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Get up."

"I'm … I'm not sure I can …"

The sword pricked. Allan felt a small line of blood run down his neck. "I said get up."

"Right! Right …" He tried. He refused to let go off his stomach even though he somehow knew that it had no effect whether his hands were there or not, and it was hard to regain balance without having your hands as support. He pushed himself up with a grunt, but as soon as he was up, his vision became all white, and he lost balance. He fell down again, and pain was shot through his body as lightning.

"I can't," he groaned. "Just kill me now, Giz. Kill me like you killed Marian."

"Don't you dare speak her name!" Guy roared. He kicked Allan in the stomach, and once again it felt like he was bitten by a creature with teeth of fire.

When Allan could move again, he tried to crawl away from the man who had been his master and maybe a kind of friend with help from an arm and his feet. "Why not? Because you want to pretend that she never existed? Let me tell you something, mate, that method doesn't work. No matter how hard you try to deny what you've done, it always comes back to you. Maybe in the night when you can't sleep, maybe even during day when nothing else is occupying you. I would know."

Guy tightened his grip around the sword. His eyes were dark like the darkest shadows in the deepest corner in Nottingham Castle. "You know nothing. You don't know how I feel! No one does."

"You're not the only one who has lost someone." Allan fought to set himself in a sitting position where it did not hurt so much. "Robin also lost the woman he loved. Do you think he feels better than you do? Much lost the first love he ever found; maybe the first person who truly saw him for what he was without Robin, and we all know that he will never find her again. John lost his wife and child. Djaq lost her father and her brother. Will lost both his parents."

"But they didn't kill them," Gisborne hissed. "They don't have to feel the guilt too."

"I lost my brother. I was supposed to keep an eye on him, but I didn't." Allan looked down. He had not thought of Tom in a long time. "When he was caught, I said to the others that we shouldn't go save him. It was only because of Robin that we did … but then it was too late." He clenched his hands. "I tried to tell myself that it didn't matter. Tried to pretend that Tom had never existed, but the fear grew inside me, and I ended up stuck in your dungeons, same as him, only I found a way out. A way that led me to betray my family - a family I hadn't realized I had - and cause the death of good men." He looked Guy in the eyes. "So don't tell me that I don't know what guilt feels like."

Gisborne breathed heavily. He raised the sword so it again pointed at Allan's neck. "What's your point, Allan?"

Allan gulped. He might not be brave like Robin, but he could at least be brave enough to try and make Guy understand what they had both learned the hard way. "I'm saying that all of these deaths - including Marian's - wouldn't have happened if you would stop trying to pretend that the bad things you do don't exist. That they don't matter. 'Cause they do, and you know it."

There was a long pause where none of the two men spoke. Allan could hardly breathe out of pain and fear. He was much aware of the tip of the sword that rested against his neck. One move and he would be dead and cold. _Like a dead rabbit … Like Marian …_

"Even if I do," Guy said and broke the silence, "it is too late now. The dead can't come back to live again. So what does it matter?"

"It's too late for us." Allan shrugged. "But I came back to the gang so I could prevent others from feeling the way I did. That I do. I make sure that they get a better life than me. And that they get a better life than Tom; I owe him that."

"But I don't care about other people," Guy snorted.

"You cared about Marian. Don't you want to make sure that no one else ends up like her? So that no one else will end up like you?"

"I …" Before Guy could finish his answer, both men heard the sounds of weapons clashing. Allan jerked his head in the direction of the sound. Almost before it had begun, it was over, and they heard horses galloping through the forest.

"Allan!" someone called. It sounded like Robin.

Suddenly Guy had hauled him to his feet and pressed the sword against his neck. Allan froze, and the arrow in his stomach burned. "Not a sound," Guy hissed.

His vision blurred. The white threatened to overwhelm him again. "Kill me," he whispered. "If you're going to pretend nothing matters, then just kill me now." It became harder and harder to focus. "I'm just a rabbit … a rabbit in a trap …"

"What?" Guy sneered.

"I'm a little rabbit, and rabbits don't matter to anyone …they are just used for eating when the hunter is hungry …"

He closed his eyes. Why did his stomach burn? The feeling was similar to the time in the dungeons when he had been tortured all day. He felt that the sword was removed from his throat, but then there was great pain.

And everything was black.

* * *

"Allan!" Robin's voice was hoarse from shouting. "Allan!"

"Maybe he escaped," Much suggested. "He might have, master."

"Yes, of course. But …" Robin felt helpless. When they had found out that the Sheriff and Gisborne had gone to visit Clun, they had stolen two of the fastest horses from the castle stables, but when they arrived at the village, the villagers told them that Allan had been chased into the forest, and they had not seen him or Gisborne since. In the forest they had fought against the guards and naturally won, but there had been no sign of Gisborne or Allan. Gisborne had probably taken him back to Nottingham unless …

_Unless he just killed him immediately and left the body here, _Robin couldn't help but think. And that was why he insisted that they kept looking.

"Allan!"

"Master! Over here!"

Much and his horse were twenty meters away. Something or someone lay at the ground by his feet. The figure was lifeless. Robin frowned as worry welled up inside him once more, and he hurried over to the body. It was Allan. The first thing he noticed was how pale he was, and that there was blood on his neck and a line of blood from his temple. Then he looked at his stomach …

"No!" Robin jumped off his horse and kneeled beside Allan. He was careful not to touch the arrow as he grabbed his friend's shoulders. "Allan, no …"

Much was also on the ground. He felt Allan's wrist. "He is alive, master. I feel a pulse."

Relief flooded through him. He had seen many dead men, and Allan looked just like them with the pale skin and the bloodstained shirt. But he knew Much was right when he felt the warmth of his skin. Dead men were cold. "We must get him back to camp. Quickly."

"I'll do that," Much offered. "We need to find a physician. But then we can't take him back to camp …"

"Take him to the camp," Robin ordered. "I know someone who will not reveal our hiding place to anyone."

He helped Much get Allan onto the horse and watched them ride away. Allan's leg dangled lifelessly over the side of the horse. Then he got on his own horse and hoped that the one person whom he knew to be as skilled as Djaq had been would be where he thought she was …

* * *

Why was he always alone when situations like this occurred? Back in Acre, when Robin was wounded, he had been alone. When he had found out that the king was an imposter, he had been alone. And now he was riding through the forest, and Allan was dying, and once again he found himself alone. But maybe, he mused, the situations were just worse when you were alone. Because when he thought about it, he had been in many situations where he had not been alone too. In some of them Allan had been beside him.

"Don't die, Allan," he said and grabbed tighter around Allan's body. "Please. I need you. Who else will make fun of my cooking and lighten the mood in the camp when everybody is gloomy? Who will tell stories and trick guards? I'm telling you, you can't die. Robin and I went through a lot of trouble to find you, and it would be most disrespectful if you just died …" Somehow he always ended up arguing with Allan. He felt a lump forming in his throat. "Please …"

When he came to the camp, it took a long time to pull the secret lever and maneuver the horse and the lifeless man inside so he could gently lower him on a bunk. The others were not back yet. Much was restless and did not know what to do. He missed Djaq so much; she would have calmed him down and most importantly, she would have known what to do to make Allan all right again.

So he just waited and occasionally he would squeeze Allan's hand and feel the pulse just to make sure he was still with them.

* * *

He was back in the dungeons under Nottingham Castle. His whole body was burning, but he couldn't move, couldn't escape, couldn't run. Allan's solution to all situations that became too uncomfortable had always been to run. He had left a couple of girls brokenhearted, but he had been free. And now he was trapped.

Once before he had been in these dungeons. Back then he had been saved by a lord of Locksley who had later become Robin Hood and a friend of his. As time went by in the dungeon, though, he realized that Robin would not come this time. Robin had seen his brother, had seen their family for what it was - a family of liars and thieves, unreliable, unworthy of love …

But no! Robin and the others were his friends. They would come. Of course they would come as he had previously come for them. They were his friends, and no matter what his father had claimed was possible, they cared about him. They would come.

But they did not. Guy of Gisborne came, and he offered a way to stop the pain, to stop the hurt. Allan closed his eyes and leaned back his head; he wanted to get rid of the pain so badly. Maybe it didn't _really _matter if Gisborne knew some of their plans … maybe if he just pretended everything was fine …

Suddenly he was no longer in the dungeons, but the pain was not gone. It burned inside him, and he wanted to scream, but he had no body, no soul. He was nothing and no one.

Just a stupid rabbit caught in a trap.

* * *

When the others came back, Much quickly told them what had happened. Little John roared out his rage and went to stand protectively by Allan's bunk, refusing to eat or move. Tuck also went to sit at his friend's side, but he had to leave again. All the blood had made him go as pale as Allan. He might fight like he had been in many wars, but Much realized that the boy probably hadn't been out of the monastery at all until a few weeks ago and had therefore not seen much.

They waited in what felt like an eternity. The sun crept slowly across the sky, and Allan's breath became ragged like he was dreaming. He was covered in sweat. Much wondered where Robin had gone. Who could possibly have the healing skills required and at the same time be a close enough friend that they would not give away the camp?

As the door to the camp finally opened, the three men jerked their heads simultaneously.

A wide grin spread across Little John's face.

"Hello, Matilda."

* * *

**Thank you for reading :)**


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